Fallen Angel
by JakKore
Summary: Getting inside the head of Johnny Weir during his performance of "Fallen Angel" in the men's figure skating long program 2010 Vancouver Olympics


_**I don't know why I felt so drawn to write this, I've been obsessed with the Winter Olympics this year and watched the long program last night. Weir's performance was stunning and he was seriously underscored in my opinion. Anyways please please please write a review, I'll post the Evan Lysacek one if people like this.**_

"_And now, skating for the United States of America…Johnny Weir." _

I swallowed, skating into my starting position. I stared straight ahead at nothing in particular, wishing that the pumping of my heart was a voluntary reaction, that way I could stop it from thundering like a stampede of wild horses. As the audience granted me their polite smattering applause I found I was relieved that my coach had decided against the quad, a fraction of the virtually insurmountable weight had lifted off my shoulders.

Silence.

There was total silence other than the sound of my heart thumping in my ears. I tried to concentrate on regulating my breathing, keeping it steady, balancing my inhalation with my exhalation.

Then the music started, that pure angelic voice called me for the millionth time into motion, only this time would be the last. I leaned my torso back and then with fluidity swung around, setting my skates to movement, my hands slipping up to my chest and my palms pressed gently together as if I were catching a firefly. I slid out, the ice obeying my commands as I turned and skated backwards, gaining as much momentum as I could; the first jump was always the worst, often the make or break of the performance. A fall this early on is always hard to mentally over come.

I cleared my mind, letting the harmonic voices carry me through it. I tapped my foot once, turned, then launched into my triple flip. Rotating, momentarily lifted off my feet I tested my long slumbered wings; this was it. I heard the air whistle satisfyingly around me in those few seconds and then stuck the landing, my left blade clinking back on to the ice, my right leg swinging out firmly to balance myself. My arms twirled up in time with the music, almost involuntary now. I felt like I was running on water—which I suppose is partly true— simply letting my movements flow freely, loosely with the music. The clock struck twice, I let the gong reverberate through me and flew into my first triple axel twirling with the three rotations, the air blowing a cold, comforting breeze across my forehead. Touching down, my arms stretched out, featherless wings, begging to fly. I granted them their wish. Another jump came easily now, the smooth landing, the twirling touch down. I let the music carry me across the ice, the movements simply complex leading into my next triple axel. Another flight, another landing, and then a ballerina like twirling jump, one arm twisting around my head.

Just then the thunder rolled and I spun, crouching low in submission, making myself as small as possible to avoid the lightning that would inevitably be close now. I moved to get out of the spin when suddenly

my heart dropped; I had hit a rut in the ice.

I stumbled but recovered almost unnoticeably, my eyes flashing to the culprit. She had betrayed me. The ice can be a cruel unfeeling thing, she can carry one skater to victory and the other to a dream shattering fall. She would not swallow me as she had done so many others, of this I was determined. My hand flashed open at my side and I stared at my open palm. My heart began to beat faster, a steady drum beat to match the thunder. I felt myself give control over to the other half of me; the untamed half. I knew now how much he had longed to come out. My speed increased, the combinations increased. It all began to flow in endless movements, one began as the other ended almost undistinguishable in their transitions.

This became a cry.

My other half turned me, one footed, arms raised in fists I twirled. My hands flowed first clasped then breaking at my face. He pulled me into another attempt at flight, I soared for mere seconds before gravity denied my desires. Hands clasped, I begged, pleaded to the heavens to take me back. For once I didn't think of Torino, I didn't think of medals or fame I just wanted my wings mended, longed for flight more than anything in the entire universe. I swirled with grace, pleaded with the heavens to not deny my wish, to honor my request. I could feel their answer in my heart; I was not to fly again.

But I could not accept this.

My heart was on the ice.

No.

So much more than that.

My very essence was on the ice, my soul laid bare for the world.

But there was no world.

I spread my arms out, wings were once there the grace in them left no question of that fact. Triple lutz, triple toe, those were just meaningless names for my leaps in the air, my endeavor to fly, useless words to describe the longing coursing through every vein in my body. My hands slid down my face, I would give all of myself tonight. There would be nothing left in me after this, but what did it matter? This was ardent, emotional,

This was everything.

Once, twice, three times my feet left ground in quick succession, only to touch down each time after too few seconds. Violins carried me faster now, my arms extended in earnest to the sky, I so wanted to fly again. To have tasted flight only to fall was too much to bear. Another leap, another perfect landing and into a spin. Drums, there were drums now, setting a new pace to my heartbeat these movements were more wild, more desperate. The other wilder half of me bent my back and I twisted my torso down in complete submission to his will, my leg well over my head. I heard the audience clapping in time and for some reason this encouraged me, this disembodied egging on, pushing me to the ultimate goal.

My whole body was in this, my whole soul. I pushed across the ice, wildly graceful, a thing of irony and beauty, confidence and fear. I was at complete and total mercy to my other half. My body spun faster and faster with the music, nothing was visible, all was a blur. Speed increasing, heart pounding, spinning up, one hand at my skate the other to the heavens then I thrust my arm out then went down one knee to the ice my opposite hand pressed to it, my body flung back in submission my hand reaching back and into the air as the music came to it's pounding conclusion.

Silence for a second.

Then my hand came to my heart and I gasped for breath. The sound of applause flooded my ears and I began to laugh and cry at the same time. I sat on the ice, my head fallen into my white gloved hands and I sobbed. I got to my feet, the whole crowd had already done the same. Relief and exhaustion flooded through my entire body and I looked out at the spectators for the first time. These people had witnessed my soul, watched my other half take over. They could have no idea what had occurred within me but they had been moved by it. A dazed smile found its way to my face as I slid my way across the ice bowing as I went, finally finding my way off. I took the steps to my coach, though she couldn't imagine what I had just been through she would understand what had occurred more than anyone else. She embraced me as I still gasped deeply for breath, it was almost like resurfacing after nearly drowning. I sucked the cool, relieving oxygen into my lungs and closed my eyes. No matter what score the judges decided to give me I had just skated the best skate of my life, it was emotional and terrifying, beautiful and relieving. For five minutes I had truly lived.


End file.
